The Void
by white rose01
Summary: One-shot, an ordinary crime scene ends in tragedy. "You're living your life, then suddenly, boom. It's just over. Just like that, and you never even saw it coming." Warning: Character Death


_Disclaimer: I own nothing, it's all the property of Anthony Zuiker and CBS._

AN: Don't know where this came from, 1am does strange things to your brain though! First NY fic, so I hope that you enjoy it. As always, reviews are much appreciated.

The void

Danny Messer was floating at the edge of a black void. He was vaguely aware of panicked voices around him, shouting orders, calling for help. For a second he was confused. Then he remembered, and tilted his head to look down at the scarlet stain that was blossoming across his shirt. His new shirt at that.

He took a deep breath, or tried to at least. As he started to choke, a face hovered into his vision and started talking to him. Danny struggled to put a name to the face, his brain protesting at being yanked from its fuzzy, warm cocoon. Eventually it clicked: Mac Taylor, his boss, the one who had called him to the crime scene.

Suddenly everything came back into sharp focus. He could hear the panic, see everything, albeit blurrily as his glasses were AWOL, and smell the blood. His blood. And he could do nothing but watch as his life force poured out of his body and pooled on the floor beneath him.

He cursed as the pain hit him, a burning, excruciating pain like nothing he had ever felt before. His vision went started darkening at the edges as his body tried to escape the agony it was enduring. He concentrated on not blacking out, biting his lip so hard he drew blood, but the pain this caused was like being hit with a feather in comparison.

Someone grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He squeezed it back, grateful for the contact, for the warmth. Flack leaned in, still holding his hand. His face was pale and he looked slightly panicked, all of which were slightly disturbing to Danny, Flack never lost it.

_I must be really bad if Flack's getting worried _pondered Danny. An icy cold fist of fear wrapped itself round his heart as he thought of the possible outcomes of this. He risked another look at his chest, Mac was now applying pressure to the wound, presumably what he'd told Danny earlier, but Danny could still see the stain spreading.

"Mac…?" he questioned tremulously.

Mac and Flack exchanged glances, and that told him everything he needed to know.

His face crumpled and his eyes brimmed. He was too young for this; this wasn't the way it was supposed to be. He was going to die in the field after being shot by some trigger-happy teenager who was poking around their scene.

"Danny, I'm sorry. Listen you've gotta hang on, the EMTs are on their way, they'll be here real soon, and you've got to hang on 'til then, ok? That's an order"

Flack nodded at Mac's words, and squeezed Danny's hand again, trying (and failing) to look positive.

Danny let the tears roll down his cheeks unabated, he knew that being a CSI was risky, hell; they were reminded of it all the time with various near misses, but you never expected it to happen to you. He was reminded of something that he'd said to Mac after the café owner and her workers had been killed by her boyfriend:

_I can't wrap my head around it, Mac. You get up, you go to work, see the people that you know, you talk, you laugh. You're living your life, then suddenly, boom. It's just over. Just like that, and you never even saw it coming._

He sure as hell hadn't seen it coming. One minute he'd been taking pictures and the next minute he'd turned round at the sound of footsteps and ended up on the floor. From a healthy man to a dying one in the space of a few seconds. He'd got up, gone to work, greeted Flack, talked and laughed with Mac, when suddenly, boom. He was on the floor, waiting for it to be over. Getting up that morning had been the beginning of the end.

He mentally shook his head at the irony of it all. He'd managed to avoid getting involved with the Tanglewood boys, stayed clean, only to end up bleeding to death on the floor of a crappy apartment building.

His vision started going dark at the edges again, and he knew his time was almost up.

"Mac, listen, I'm not gonna make it…" he paused to take a painful breath, "I need you to tell my mom goodbye, ok? Tell her I love her, say bye to the team as well…"

He started sobbing then, unable to go on.

Mac grabbed his other hand, and spoke softly to him.

"Danny, I know that you're scared, I would be too, everytime I was out fighting with the marines I was scared that it might be the last time. I know you hurt Danny, but you gotta hang on, the ambulance is so close, so close. You don't want to leave me without one of my best CSIs do you?"

Danny attempted to smile, giving more of a grimace instead. He appreciated Mac's words, but knew that he couldn't hang on anymore. As if to prove him right, blood bubbled from his lips, horrifying Mac and Flack, and also Danny. His body was letting him down, shutting itself down, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He choked on the liquid, causing pain to radiate from his wound. He groaned and willed the pain to stop.

"Oh God Mac…it hurts…it hurts so damn much"

Mac looked at his youngest CSI helplessly. He wanted to get up and shout and swear and beat the living crap out of something. He couldn't believe the unfairness of it all. He was no stranger to death, but when it was someone he knew, someone he liked, when it was Danny…

He exchanged a haunted glance with Flack, both men knowing that they were going to be the only witnesses of Danny Messer's passing. Flack brusquely wiped his hand across his face and then leaned in close to Danny's face.

"C'mon Messer, don't be doin this to us. Hang in there"

Mac nodded vehemently at Flack's words, before adding his own.

"I know it hurts but you gotta hang on, you can do it Danny, the ambulance is nearly here."

Danny appreciated both men's optimism, but knew that they knew it was hopeless. He took a laboured breath and realised that he couldn't feel anything below his waist anymore. He felt the pain recede slightly, and watched as things started darkening at the edges, once again he found himself teetering on the edge of the void. With a superhuman effort he forced himself to speak.

"Can't hang on…" he gasped, "sorry…"

With these last words, Danny Messer slipped into the void, never to return.


End file.
